The Playboy's Proposition (16 page)
Small satin-covered buttons snuggled in little satin loops
which ran down the front of the dress from the neckline to what I judged to be
mid-thigh, maybe higher. The dress had no closures from there on down, like a
very long slit that is usually found at the rear or side of a dress. Around
knee height, the slit curved open, back and away, making a sort of scallop
shape at the bottom, the longest part at the back, the most open in the front.
I didn’t want to try it on yet; just needed to judge that it
would fit. I surmised that it would, especially since it had stretch to it. I
lay it over the back of a chair.
There was no card in with the shoes. They, too were white.
Instantly, I loved them. The heels were high, but not higher than I could
handle. The straps were practically not there, just a few slender bands of soft
white leather, tastefully sprinkled with tiny, sparkling crystals.
I tried them on. They fit beautifully.
Not without some regret, I took them off and nestled them
back into their box. Then I opened the final package. No card again. There were
three smaller boxes inside.
The first held a tiny bottle of perfume. There was no label
on the bottle of any kind, but it did have an elaborate lid. I presumed I was
supposed to know the name of the perfume by the shape of the cap. Some designer
thing, I imagined. Whatever.
I opened and sniffed. It was floral and light, but rich,
too. I set it aside.
I opened the next box. Hmm. I had expected a necklace, and
that’s what it was ... sort of. It was more like a choker, made of supple white
leather, but covered on the outside with lace. It was thin, less than half an
inch wide, and had a little silver buckle. Crystals, similar to the ones on my
shoes, were scattered artfully around the exterior of the choker.
It was pretty, I thought, but odd. Then I noticed the card
in the box. It read, “So everyone will know you’re taken.”
Ah, I thought. Not a choker. A collar. Got it.
The white dress meant I was new. The collar meant I was
taken. Okay then. I wasn’t sure how I felt about the collar, but it was pretty
enough, and there was no point in making a fuss over something so small.
Besides, I actually was taken. Sort of. For two more nights, anyway.
Inside the last box was a small, white evening bag. The man
had thought of everything.
The white satin bag was only large enough to hold a few
items, like a compact, lipstick, my cell phone, for example. It hung from a
delicate silver chain that could be secured to my wrist, so I wouldn’t have to
bother with holding onto it all night. It was perfect.
I put it away with everything else. Time to get back to the
work of whipping myself into something worthy of all these fancy goods.
After ages of futzing, I was finally plucked, pruned,
dressed and ready to go. With 15 minutes still to spare, I stood in front of
the mirror and studied myself.
I left my hair down, at Michael’s request, but took the time
to curl it lightly, so it fell in soft, black waves down my back. The collar
actually looked pretty, I thought, with its tiny crystals sparkling whenever I
moved.
Once I had the dress on, I realized the sleeves were the
off-shoulder type, leaving my shoulders bare except for the narrow satin straps
coming from the bra. It was a demi-cup, push-up bra, that scarcely covered my
nipples, and left the tops of my areolae exposed. The neckline of the dress was
high enough to hide the rest of my areolae, but low enough to reveal most of
the impressive cleavage the push-up bra created.
The dress fell straight from the empire waistline under my
breasts. It wasn’t form-fitting, but rather the fabric brushed my body as it
fell to my ankles, only snugging up a bit over my hips and butt. The column of
buttons ended higher than I had thought when I first saw the dress, stopping
maybe four inches below my crotch. How unseemly, I mused with a mental titter.
While the sleeves were only one layer of lace, and the skin
of my arms could be seen through the fabric, the rest of the dress was double
layered, providing more coverage, or at least enough to keep me from being arrested
for public indecency.
With the beautiful high-heeled shoes, and the narrow line of
the dress, I looked taller, and slimmer than normal. A sort of lithe effect.
Had to love it.
All in all, I thought I would pass inspection.
I looked, and felt, like a slutty Cinderella.
Slutty was the key word in that sentence. I realized I
couldn’t just waltz out of my building looking like this. I needed some kind of
long coat.
Michael hadn’t thought of everything after all.
I frantically dug through my closet and pulled out an old,
lightweight summer raincoat. It was plain-jane beige, but it would do the
trick. I slipped it on and cinched the tie around my waist. It looked bizarre
with the lacy skirt hanging out underneath it, like I had been called off to
some emergency and hadn’t had time to change out of my nightie before leaving.
I rummaged around in my jewelry drawer until I came up with
a silver pin. Thanks to the long slit in the front of the dress, it was simple
to gather up the skirt and wrap it around, then pin it up higher, so it
couldn’t be seen under the hem of the raincoat.
It would do. It was boring, yes, but it would do.
My phone buzzed. I checked the message. It was from Elaine,
telling me they were waiting outside in a limousine. I grabbed up the adorable
little handbag, and I was off to the ball.
When I stepped into the limo, I saw immediately that Michael
wasn’t there. My heart dropped. No, he couldn’t be standing me up.
Elaine saw my face fall and assured me that Michael would be
coming, that he had called and told them to go ahead and pick me up. His plane
had landed late, he said, but he was in town and needed to drop by home for a
shower and a change of clothes before he headed to the party.
I settled in and enjoyed the ride with the Hoytes. One
couldn’t wish for a jollier pair. They joked and bantered the whole way.
They, too, were wrapped up in lightweight coats, and they,
too, had never been to the summer ball. We sipped champagne and speculated on
what we might see and do.
When we arrived, I saw that the chauffeur hadn’t pulled up
in front of the entrance to the club, at least not the entrance I remembered.
It was a different plain door, propped open, with a bright uncovered light
casting an illuminated half circle on the sidewalk. White poster board propped
on a brass easel next to the doorway declared, “Charity Event -- Invitation
Only.”
While we got out, Ron explained that this was an alternate
entry on another side of the building. Once again, I wondered how big this club
actually was.
We stepped into a closed foyer, where a burly doorman took
our names and checked us off a list. He opened the door behind him, and we went
inside.
It was just a hallway, similar to the other hallways I had
seen when I had been in the other part of the building. It even had the same
smell, a clean citrus scent.
A middle-aged lady dressed in a black velvet evening gown
greeted us and directed us to a room on one side where she checked our coats.
There was an area with mirrors where we could adjust our clothes back into
place and give ourselves a final going-over.
The lady then pointed us to the elevator and told us to go
to the third floor. We thanked her and went on our way.
When we were in the elevator, Ron put his huge arms around
Elaine’s and my shoulders and proclaimed, “I am one lucky fellow. Everyone’s
going to see me with you two fine-looking ladies and think I’ve got to be the
hossest dom in these parts.”
I smiled and Elaine laughed. I thought he was definitely
right about Elaine; she did look lovely. She was cinched tightly into a
finely-tooled black leather corset, her breasts pushed up and perky enough to
suit even her critical eye. A black silk skirt fell to the floor, draping
beautifully in gentle folds. Like me, she wore a collar, only hers was black.
Her dark brown hair shone, dressed in an elaborate chignon.
Ron, too, was looking good in his black silk shirt and tight
black leather pants. Ah, I got it. They were opposites, leather corset and
pants, silk shirt and skirt. It struck me as adorable and I wanted to hug them.
Ron said, “I feel like I’m going to a kink wedding.”
Elaine gave the required, “How so?” that he waited for.
Ron nodded at Elaine and said, “Something old.”
Then he nodded at me and said, “Something new.”
He nodded at me again. “Something borrowed.”
Then he dropped an arm and swatted Elaine’s butt. “And
something black and blue!”
The way he belly-laughed at his own joke set me laughing
harder than his quip. Elaine batted his arm.
She said, “You don’t tell a woman’s she’s old right before
she goes to a big party you dunce. I swear, I’m never gonna get you trained.”
Ron quit laughing long enough to say, “That’s ‘cause
training is my job, little lady.”
Then he was off laughing again. They were still squabbling
and joking when the elevator doors opened.
We stepped into a huge room teeming with partygoers. It was
readily apparent from the sheer size of the place and the exposed beams and
pipes in the high ceilings, that this had once held some sort of factory. The
paned windows, though blacked out, ran from floor to ceiling along two sides of
the room. The wood floor looked to be a restored and polished version of the
original.
Tall black dividers had been set up around the room to
create functional separations in the gigantic space. I could see at a glance
the ballroom area in front of me, a bar and buffet to the left, and to the
right what I assumed to be the auction area, filled with tables of goods and
the small stages that Michael had told me about.
The industrial look of the place was softened by the modern
chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, casting a soft and appealing glow over
the space. Somehow, they had managed to hang black and gold swags from the high
metal beams. The small tables that circled the dance floor and filled the
buffet area, were dressed in crisp, black tablecloths with gold candleholders
twinkling in the center. The chairs, too, followed the black and gold theme.
It was the people, though, that truly made you forget that
this had once been a factory. There were hundreds of them milling around,
dressed in everything from formal tuxes and evening gowns to ass-less chaps and
dresses made of nothing but chains. One woman I noticed wasn’t wearing anything
more than a loincloth, every other inch of her skin covered in tribal-patterned
tattoos. I supposed with that many tattoos, it wasn’t possible to look naked.
Hair styles and make up varied as much as the clothing, from
slick buns to outlandish beehives, from buzz cuts to dreadlocks, from no make
up at all to full face paint and masks.
I particularly enjoyed one man who looked dapper in a white
tuxedo, a one-foot-tall spiky mohawk, and a pair of two-inch-wide disks in his
ear lobes.
So this was a kink ball.
I was entranced and delighted. What an amazing display of so
many different tastes and styles, so many alternate points of view. It felt
freeing to be in their presence.
Three people, two women and a man, stood behind a table near
the elevator. One of the women greeted Elaine. After a quick round of
handshaking and introductions, the woman gave us a brief rundown of where
everything was, and pointed out the emergency exits.
The Hoytes and I each took a copy of a printed timetable of
the evening’s events, and a pamphlet with information about the two charities
the event was supporting, then strolled off arm-in-arm into the crush, making a
straight line, per Ron’s request, to the bar in the buffet room.
Guests smiled and chatted with one another. Some of them
nodded as we passed. Ron and Elaine waved at a few people they knew, and I was
introduced several times.
I was pleased to run into Lilly Smith, who looked as
beautiful as I remembered. Though we had spoken on the phone a few times since
we met, we hadn’t yet had the chance to get together.
I introduced her to the Hoytes, and had to smile at Ron’s
open admiration of Lilly’s pixie self. Her date, Scott, the young man Lilly had
met when we were last here together, soon arrived and dragged her off to the
dance floor. She called to me that we would chat more later.
The sound of so many people talking at once created a hum
which underlay the music pouring from the speakers that encircled the ballroom
area. Individual colognes and perfumes blended together with the enticing
aromas wafting from the buffet warmers.
My stomach rumbled, but I knew I’d wait for Michael to
arrive before I ate.
Ron managed to steer us safely through to the bar, and
thanks to his bulk, had no problem being seen and waited on. Once we had our
drinks, we meandered past the food, then back through the ballroom and into the
silent auction area.
I felt a surge of excitement when I saw the many stages that
lined two of the walls. There must have been more than twenty-five of them,
about ten feet by ten feet in size. I imagined myself standing on one while
partygoers filed past and I enjoyed the little thrill that zipped through me.
High on the wall behind each stage, three posts stuck out
perpendicular to the wall. About four or five hooks were spaced along the
length of each post. A number of rings were bolted to the wall and the stage
floors. A few stages even had built-in apparatuses like a
pommel-horse-looking-thing, and a big swing.
Some people were already set up on several of the stages,
and had begun scening. A well-endowed, heavy-set Domme had strung up a muscular
man to the posts, and was lightly swatting his bare ass with a thin switch. A
handful of people watched and quietly murmured to one another. What they might
be saying, I could only imagine.
On another stage, a man wearing jeans and a pair of the
nerdiest eyeglasses I’ve seen since Urkel, was elaborately wrapping his pretty
sub in rope. The sub stood there patiently, gaze lowered, while the man
adjusted the rope over her breasts and wound the white nylon around and around.
Elaine sighed when she saw it and said, “Eh, he’s just
getting started. He’ll be at that for a good while yet. We’ll come back later
when it’s something worth lookin’ at.”
Bemused, I followed in her wake.
Ron wanted to inspect all of the various merchandise
displayed down the lengths of the many tables set up in the room. Elaine told
him we weren’t interested and that she needed to get off her feet. Ron,
entranced by some carved paddles, hardly noticed when Elaine and I left.
Elaine found a table near the edge of the ballroom, away
from the dancing and out of the flow of traffic. She sat down and blew out a
loud breath.
She said, “Okay, my feet don’t actually hurt.”
I fussed with my skirt, trying to find a way to make sure I
wasn’t flashing everyone in the joint. The skirt simply slid away to either
side of me, leaving me nothing to work with. I had to settle on keeping my legs
clenched tightly together.
I said, “I’m glad. You haven’t even gotten to dance yet.”
Elaine waved a hand in the air, “We’ll get to that. I’ve
been dying to talk to you, but wanted to wait until we could talk in person.
Been crazy busy at work, so this is the first chance I’ve gotten.”
“Okay.”
She leaned toward me. “I’ve got to know what you think about
this business with Michael and Gibson Reeves. How they’re secret cousins and
whatnot.”
I was shocked. “You know about that? How do ...”
“Michael told us, oh, I think it was Tuesday ... no, it was
Wednesday. He came over and had a few drinks and told us all about how Gibson
Reeves screwed his family out of a bunch of money. Said he’d already told you.”
“Wow. I didn’t think ...” I almost said that I didn’t think
he normally talked about his problems with Gibson, or at least, I thought I
recalled him saying something like that. “I didn’t know he told you.”
“Yep, all about it,” Elaine said. “What do you make of it?”
“I think it’s terrible. His father dying the way he did. His
mother losing it ... it’s just horrible.”
“That bit about his mama could bring on a tear or two,
couldn’t it?”
“Of course,” I answered. “And Gibson’s to blame for it. He’s
a cold, terrible man. I had no idea. It’s still hard to process. To think that
I was with ... ugh.”
Elaine took a drink and studied me over the rim of her
glass. “So you believe it all, then. The whole kit and caboodle.”
I started. “Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?” I paused for
moment, thinking. “Are you suggesting that Michael was ly-...”
“Now, now. I’m not saying anything of the sort.”
“Your question implies it.”
“Oh honey, I don’t mess around with implyin’ anything. And
I’m not sayin’ Michael is a liar. It’s just that when you get to be my age, you
learn a few things, and a really big thing you learn is that there’s usually
two sides to every story. That’s all I’m sayin’.”
“Oh, well. I don’t know about that. I can’t even imagine
there could be another way to look at this. I mean, how could Gibson possibly
defend what he did?”
She patted my hand, “Aww, I’m sorry I brought this up,
honey. Didn’t mean to upset you. Just wanted your take on things, that’s all.
Never mind it.”
“I really do think there’s no other way to see this, Elaine.
Michael was treated shamefully, and Gibson has a lot to answer for by not
helping when it would have been such a simple thing for him to do.”
“True, true ...”
“Whenever I think about how Michael asked Gibson for a loan,
a simple loan to help him try to get his head above water, and Gibson wouldn’t
give it to him. I get so mad. I don’t understand people like him. I hope I
never have to see that selfish prick again.”
Elaine glanced to the side and said, “Well, that prick doesn’t
share your sentiments, Nonnie. In fact, he’s standin’ right over there and he’s
lookin’ at you like you’re the last snow cone in the Mojave.”
I immediately followed her glance. She was right. Gibson
Reeves in the flesh, looking right at me. Hell. He nodded. I jerked a nod at
him then turned back to Elaine.
I said, “Damn. Why did I nod? I should have just cut him,
the way he always does to Michael.”
“Breathe, girl. I think he’s coming over here. Be polite.
Trust me. It’s never a good idea to give a powerful man the cold shoulder.”
“I don’t care what he thinks about me. I ...”
“Nonnie, do as you please. But I wish you’d take my advice
and be polite.”
There was no time to think about it. Gibson was standing
next to me.
I turned to look up at him. He was his usual cool self,
looking elegant and put together in a tailored black tuxedo. His dark eyes
seemed to glitter at me, but he was otherwise as unreadable as always.
He smiled and said, “Ladies, I hope you’re enjoying
yourselves.”
I said I was, then introduced him to Elaine. They shook
hands.
They exchanged several trivialities while I sat there and
tried to keep my face placid, holding a bland smile for Elaine’s sake, because
she asked me to.
Gibson turned back to me and said, “I believe this is your
first time at this event as well?”
“Yes.”
I enjoyed the awkward silence that followed, maintaining my
brainless smile all the while.
He asked, “Do you have any questions that I could answer
about the event, about what’s planned for the evening?”
I answered, “Nope.”
Elaine piped in with, “I was thinking about bidding on a
trained sub, a present for my husband. Um, do those auctions usually start on
time?”
I almost rolled my eyes.
Gibson didn’t even blink. He answered, “The organizing crew
does its best to keep everything on schedule.”
Elaine said, “Good to know. Good to know.”
Silence fell again. Gibson gave me a long, cool look, but I
was steady under it.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could tell Elaine was getting
ready to say something, but she didn’t get the chance.
Gibson said, “It was nice to see you, Nonnie. And nice
meeting you, Elaine. I hope you both have a lovely evening.”
I said, “Okay,” a counterpoint to Elaine’s, “We sure will.
And you have a lovely night, too.”
I watched Elaine’s eyes follow Gibson as he walked away.
I couldn’t believe her. “Are you checking out his butt? You
are. Elaine! Quit looking at his butt.”
She shrugged. “Eh, couldn’t see much because of that coat.
I’ve gotten a good look at it before, though. It’s pretty fine, just like the rest
of him.”
“I don’t see it anymore. He’s all uptight. No passion. He’s
hollow. Polite and hollow.”
Elaine smiled gently and said, “If you say so, honey. I
appreciate you not snubbing him, by the way. He’s one of the owners of this
place, and I’d sure hate to get kicked out before I got a chance to take a turn
on the dance floor with my Ron.”
“I hadn’t even thought of that! He probably would do
something like that, wouldn’t he? I really can’t stand him.”
She smoothed her dress. “I was just kidding, honey. Anyway,
he’s gone now.”
She gave me a minute to cool down, then said, “So, I’m
guessing from all this that things are going pretty good with you and Michael.”
I nodded. “Yeah, pretty good. This is our fourth night
together.”
“Only one more to go then. You got any idea what’s gonna
happen after the fifth?”
“None. I’m trying to take this one night at a time.”
“Just living in the moment, are ya?”
I smiled. “That’s right. A free-spirit living in the now. No
worries. No thoughts about tomorrow.”
She grinned. “You go, hippie-girl. You okay with this
auction thing tonight?”
“Yeah. I’m nervous, but I’m excited, too.”
“You’re still so new to all this, and you could wind up
being won by someone who isn’t your cup of tea, somebody who’s not even tea,
for that matter. Might be too much for you, at this stage of the game.”
“Don’t worry. It’s covered.”
She raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, wink-wink nudge-nudge, it’s all covered and I don’t
have to worry about what happens after the display part of the auction.”
“Well then, wink and nudge right back atcha. Good to know.”
We grinned.
Elaine asked, “Now what do you say we find Ron and have him
plow a path for us to the bar? I feel the need to free my own spirit with
another one of those fru-fru cocktails.”
We headed off together toward the auction room and found
Ron. With him in the lead, we were on our way to the buffet room when I noticed
the elevator doors opening. I stopped immediately when I saw who was stepping
out. It was Michael.
My stomach made a sharp flip-flop when he met my eyes. He
unloosed his sexy grin as soon as he saw me and, ignoring the welcoming
committee behind the table, strode toward me.